Thoughts, Prayers & Art

Originally published: May 23, 2025

This morning I read a heartbreaking report. Across the country, families and guardians are receiving phone calls and letters from nursing homes. The message is clear and alarming: if Medicaid is cut, they must begin to make alternate arrangements for their loved ones. The quiet, almost whispered implication is devastating, there may no longer be a place for them.

This is not just a news story. This is personal. This is pastoral. This is spiritual.

It is estimated that more than 60% of nursing home residents rely on Medicaid for their care. They are not statistics. They are our elders, our neighbors, our teachers, veterans, mothers, and fathers. They held our hands when we were afraid of the dark. They sacrificed for our futures. And now, as their strength wanes, they face the fear of abandonment in a nation with more than enough to care for them.

What does it say about our society when we begin to treat the aged and infirm as burdens instead of blessings? What does it say about our moral compass when our budget priorities erase the image of God in the vulnerable?

The Gospel calls us to love without condition. Jesus tells us that whatever we do to the least of these, we do unto Him. This includes the aged who now need help to eat, to remember, to breathe with ease. To cut the very lifeline that ensures their dignity and care is not just a policy decision, it is a spiritual crisis.

We must not turn away.

Now is the time for the Church to rise, not in partisan anger, but in holy compassion. Now is the time to advocate fiercely, to write letters and make calls not just on behalf of “the poor,” but on behalf of Grandma Ruth, of Mr. Johnson who sang in the choir, of Mrs. Brown who taught Sunday School for decades.

Medicaid is not a handout. It is a covenant of care, an assurance that in the final chapters of life, no one is cast aside, no one is forgotten, no one is alone.

If we are to be the hands and heart of Christ, then we must speak boldly and tenderly for those whose voices are growing faint.

Let us remember that a society is judged not by its wealth or might, but by how it treats its most vulnerable. Let us remember Psalm 71. And let us refuse to forsake those whom God has never abandoned.

Let us pray.
God of mercy and compassion,
Guard the frail with your strong arms.
Strengthen the advocates and caretakers.
Awaken in us a holy fire to protect the dignity of every elder.
May we be the ones who say: “You will not be cast off. You are not forgotten. You are beloved.”
Amen.